Five Dollar Mocha
by kate jones lives
Summary: Sydney met Vaughn years ago when she worked at a Starbucks. And she fell for him.
1. Chapter 1

Five Dollar Mocha-  
"So what would you like?"  
  
"A grande mocha."  
  
"Nothing else?" He shakes his head, and she smiles, saying, "Our brownies are delicious."  
  
"Is that so? Then I'll take one." He grins.  
  
She takes a brownie and places it in a cardboard box, Starbucks emblazoned on it in dark green. His mocha has arrived by now, and she places the box and the cup on the counter beside the cash register. "That will be $4.98."  
  
"That's how much I usually pay," he says, question in his eyes. He starts for the wallet in his pocket, his crisp suit folding and wrinkling with his movements.  
  
"Well, it's your first time trying out a brownie. Don't tell anyone," she adds, her eyes glittering.  
  
He hands her a five-dollar bill, taking his food in his hands. "Put the change in the penny jar." He walks away, settling himself in an armchair in the corner of the building. She watches him open his briefcase and become immersed in papers, not even looking up to sip his coffee.  
  
That is how it has been everyday for the last few minutes. Today marks the first time she built up the courage to speak to him other than the usual "What would you like?" Flirting with him comes so easily it scares her a little bit. She is sure she acted like she was still in high school; then again, she was only a year past.  
  
Angela, the only other person working today, walks up to her and asks if she wants to leave. ("The only person left is that guy who shows up everyday.") She ponders offering to lock up just to spend some more time pretending not to watch him, but forces herself to pry her eyes away and nod. "I've got a psych test tomorrow anyway."  
  
Her eyes linger on the man in the corner before she pushes the door open, swinging her bag across her shoulder as she steps through. 


	2. Chapter 2

Five Dollar Mocha-  
"Hello again." He gives her the smile she waits all day for.  
  
"Hi. How are you today?"  
  
"Great. I see you've got my mocha waiting for me."  
  
"You're one of the more regular regulars, if that's not too redundant."  
  
"It isn't." He flashes her his sparkling smile as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out the customary five-dollar bill. There is no one behind him, and she wonders if he will attempt to make conversation before burying himself in papers like he usually does. "I see you've got some books behind you."  
  
"Understatement of the year." She turns and picks one of them up, showing him the cover. "Eastern Europeon Lit, one of the many classes that make me wonder exactly why I am an English major."  
  
He laughs a little and glances down, wiping his nose with his finger. "Well, I work for the government, so I feel for those who have to do the whole 'knowing about other countries' history' thing."  
  
Government? "IRS? Because if you are, please don't take my stuff. Me: broke college student. You: not." They laugh together, and he puts his hand around the coffee cup. Thoughts flash through her mind as she searches for a topic that will keep him near her for just a few minutes more.  
  
"Work calls," he says, motioning towards the briefcase he has already picked up. The government comment has been smoothly stepped past, almost as if he couldn't tell her exactly what it was he did.  
  
"As does my test tomorrow."  
  
"Would you like to join me? I mean, if you're allowed to."  
  
She curses the fact that it is a Monday, of all days, that the coffeeshop is empty. "I would, but my boss is hiding in the storeroom and is sure to magically reappear as soon as I sit down." She can literally feel her spirits falling. This is the closest to a date she will ever get with him, and the furthest as well.  
  
"Tomorrow, then. The offer stands."  
  
She wants to kiss him as he walks away; never has she met anyone so kind towards her as he is. The possibilty of him thinking of her only in a sisterly way is shunned as she sits on a stool and pulls her book onto her lap. 


	3. Chapter 3

Five Dollar Mocha-  
He was back. Of course he would be; it was six-thirty, he was early. But there wasn't a day he didn't appear. In his hand is a bouquet of roses. Her heart immediately skips about four beats, but she calms herself down as she hands a woman her change. There is a possibility—a tiny possibility, but one nonetheless—that the flowers are for her.  
  
It still amazes her that she's fallen for someone whose name she doesn't even know. There are six customers in the line before him; six people between them. Six people before she starts stammering and looking like a fool. All six people order and pay much too fast. She doesn't have enough time to think of what she will say to him. He stands before her, not saying anything. There's no reason to; she knows what he wants.  
  
"They look beautiful." She glances at his hand so he knows what she is speaking of.  
  
"Really? Thanks; I just picked them up a few minutes ago."  
  
"Are they for your girlfriend?" she asks without realizing. Instantly she feels uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah." The silence lasts for a few seconds.  
  
"You know, you have thirteen roses in your hand," she finally says, attempting small talk as she forces her heartbeat to quiet. She punches 4-9-8 on her keypad by instinct, but looks at her fingers so she doesn't start staring into his eyes.  
  
"I know." He gives her another one of those smiles that melt her insides. She almost forgets to not get her hopes up. Instead she smiles back. "Do you take credit cards?" he asks. "I spent all my cash."  
  
She says yes, wondering if he had spent it on the flowers. He pulls a blue card from his wallet and places it in her hand, his fingers lingering on her palm. She slides it through the card-reader and looks at its back as she watches him sign the electronic screen. Michael Vaughn it reads, in hurried handwriting. She returns it to him, and he slides away as she turns so he doesn't see her blush as he touches her hand.  
  
When she looks back to the line of customers, a dozen roses are set carefully across the small counter. She immediately looks up to thank him, but his back retreats through the glass door. The next customer is an impatient man, pretending to politely ask her to remove the flowers. She does so quickly, her mood lifted by the Valentine's Day surprise. 


	4. Chapter 4

Five Dollar Mocha-  
"I saw the preview for Dreamcatcher today."  
  
"I heard it was supposed to be good."  
  
"We'll have to see, then."  
  
"I guess so."   
  
He takes the cup from her, smiling. "See you tomorrow, Sydney."  
  
Her pulse does not recieve the chance to race as the next customer looks at her with a grin on her face. "Is that your boyfriend?"  
  
She gives an embarassed smile. "My boyfriend? No."  
  
"Really?" The woman's shoulders slump a bit. She brightens; even the sun causes her dark skin to glow. "It sounded like he just asked you out."  
  
"Michael? No." She knows there is a lovesick smile across her face, and she realizes that this is the first time she has used his first name.  
  
"Oh, then how does he know you?"  
  
"He comes in every day."  
  
"Since when?"  
  
"A few months ago."  
  
"Let me get this straight. You flirt with this guy every day, and you aren't going out with him yet? I probably would have jumped him the first week." She gives what is supposed to be an embarassed smile. "Then again, I don't have much self-control. Obviously, you do."  
  
"I guess." Sydney wishes to end this conversation quickly; the customer is nice enough, but her opinions are causing Sydney to wonder why she has not asked Michael out yet. "Would you like anything?"  
  
"That huge cookie right there." She points, and Sydney places it in a wax-paper pouch. "And I'll be coming back tomorrow, and the next day, until I see you two together somewhere."  
  
"You'll be coming back for a long time." Sydney cannot believe she has just said that; it is like saying she and Michael will never get together. 


	5. Chapter 5

Five Dollar Mocha-  
The coffeeshop is empty when Michael arrives; it is the first time since that Monday he invited her to sit with him. The woman who threatened to visit every day until Sydney and Michael started going out quickly became a friend. Francie, her name was. She still pushes Sydney to ask him to lunch, or a movie. Her constant playful nagging has gotten to Sydney; she has resolved to go back home tonight with a date with Michael scheduled.  
  
He comes up to her and stands, smiling. She flicks her eyes over his choice of clothing; black jeans and shirt under a black leather jacket. Black, almost contradicting her hopeful pale blues. She turns and makes his mocha, her hands reaching for all the right ingredients without thinking, she has done this that much. Unconsciously, she leans towards him before giving him his mocha.  
  
"So, I aced my Western Europeon Lit exam."  
  
"That's great!" His excitement is genuine, his eyes crinkling and his whole face lighting up with his smile.  
  
"And I was wondering, would you like to have lunch sometime? You know, in celebration?"  
  
"That would be great!" She wonders if 'great' has suddenly become the extent of his positive vocabulary as he adds, "Actually, I came to see if you can punch out early, check out this place I found on the Internet."  
  
"When you were supposed to be working?" she teases.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Psychic powers."  
  
"Well, my psychic powers are telling me that you will be joining me. Are they right?"  
  
"Do they want to be?"  
  
"Would my psychic powers lie to you?"  
  
"You wouldn't, but your psychic powers might..." She trails off, grabbing her purse from below the counter and the keys for the building. She reaches the swinging gate separating the workers from the customers, but Michael is there before her. She looks up, smiling, ready to reply to his original question. Instead, she finds her lips meeting his in a short kiss.  
  
"Would my psychic powers lie to you?" he asks again.  
  
"It doesn't seem that way." She pushes the gate open, and he takes her other hand in his.  
  
"Is your car here?"  
  
"I walk."  
  
"Perfect." 


	6. Chapter 6

Five Dollar Mocha: 6  
The sidewalk outside the Starbucks is empty. The heat of his hand causes her to have no need for the jacket draped over her arm. They speak of unimportant things; the weather, the new Pizza Hut crust. It's as if they're saving the real conversation.  
  
He directs her to enter a jazz bar, which in itself is a surprise to Sydney. She never expected him to like jazz. They sit in a booth near a back entrance, him sliding in first and placing his arm around her waist.  
  
They spend a few minutes listening to the pianist. Then Michael looks at her, whispering as if to let her in on some great secret. "Now for something more my style." Sydney is surprised again; just being in his arms was a dream come true. She doesn't react as they go out the back door and walk down the alley behind the bar, until in front of them lies a large steel door. A large man stands guarding it and at the sight of them steps aside, opening the door. He nods at Michael, who nods back as he and Sydney make their way through the doorway.  
  
Inside is a world completely different from the sultry setting of the bar they had been inside minutes previously. People are everywhere, moving to the live music and the resounding bass provided by multiple speakers set systematically around the large warehouse-looking building.  
  
The shock that pulses through her is nothing like the look she gets from Michael that sets her on fire and her heart racing.  
  
Almost immediately they are pulled into the mass of people. Sydney is reborn; the energy all around her getting sucked in as she moves her body. She casts a glance at Michael, who slips an arm around her and pulls her closer. His lips are on hers suddenly, and she wraps her arms around his neck, bringing to life the fantasy she has wished to live for almost a year. Bodies are brushing against them, attempting in vain to redirect their flowing passion.  
  
As they separate, gasping for the oxygen they had ignored, they lock eyes. His green eyes—color she had noticed months ago—are haunting. There is a fire in them she has never noticed before. For a fleeting moment, she worries that he might think of her only as a one night stand, but the feeling disappears when she kisses him again. Her heart almost stops as the kiss ends and he says, "This is too fast."  
  
The racing and stopping of her heart in such a short time period scares her.  
  
"I really do like you Sydney, but I don't want this."  
  
Still pressed against him, she is almost afraid to speak. "What is it?"  
  
"I feel like I know you so well, but I really don't." She isn't breathing, ready to accept his rejection without falling apart. "I want to get to know you. The real you, not Sydney the coffeegirl." He grins, and she smiles back, finally able to breathe again.  
  
"I want to get to know you too, Michael."  
  
"You wanna go to the midnight movie?"  
  
"Why? I thought this was 'your style'."  
  
"You are never going to let that go, are you?"  
  
"It's just so amusing..."  
  
"Well, it'll be easier to talk. And I doubt anyone there will actually notice us talking, if you catch my drift."  
  
"I've caught enough drift in my old age."  
  
"Psh, old age."  
  
"Psh! You never cease to amaze me."  
  
"Who said I wanted to?" 


	7. Chapter 7

Five Dollar Mocha: 7  
Sydney worries that she might not see him today. Their adventures of the previous night hadn't been the romantic ones she had wanted—she had fallen asleep on his shoulder halfway through the movie. It hadn't mattered, though; they had gotten in free (the ticket seller was being kind and had told them to "go right ahead").  
  
Every worry flies off her shoulders as his familiar smile greets her through the window that is the front door. He stands there a few seconds, teasing her, until she feels like jumping over the counter and pulling him through the door herself. That was when he lets himself in.  
  
He makes his way to her quickly. In the frenzy that is "the morning after," she doesn't have his mocha ready. She doubts that is what he wants as he stands before her, smiling that smile she now knows is hers.  
  
"Hi, Sydney," he says, leaning in for a kiss. She stands straight and presses her lips against his, eventually taking his face in her hands and wishing there wasn't so much between them.  
  
"Ahem?"  
  
The break apart, embarassed, and fleetingly glare at the person who interrupted them. Sydney hopes it isn't her boss.  
  
"Francie!" Sydney is almost overjoyed, but then she remembers who she was just kissing and is overjoyed. The giddyness must show plainly because Francie speaks quickly.  
  
"Oh, this is so cute! I was waiting for you two to get together; it took you guys SO long..." She says some more things, but Sydney is more focused on the awkward look on Michael's face. She shuts her eyes, hoping he isn't thinking what she thinks he's thinking. In case he is, she stops Francie's ramble.  
  
"Michael, this is Francie. Francie, Michael."  
  
"It's nice to finally meet you, Michael. I've seen you here before."  
  
"Oh?" Clearly, he has never noticed her, but Sydney assumes that is because of the mountains of paper he usually carries with him when he comes in.  
  
"Yeah." She says no more, and Sydney feels obligated to add to the 'conversation.'  
  
"Would you like anything, Francie? Iced coffee, cookie, anything..."  
  
Somehow, Francie gets the point Sydney doesn't realize she is sending, and she winks. "Iced coffee. I've got to go back and write a Psych paper."  
  
Sydney makes the drink as quickly as she can, noticing the obvious disconnection there is between Michael and Francie. "Here you go." Francie hands her exact change, as she has for some time now, and scurries out of the building. Once she is outside, Sydney sighs and speaks. "I'm sorry about that." It had been awkward for her, but more so for him.  
  
"Don't be." He grins.  
  
"Okay." She smiles at him, knowing she can't fight that gorgeous smile or the powers those green eyes held over her. "Why are you here?"  
  
"Just wanted to know if you wanted to get together Saturday. I've got a hockey game."  
  
"You've got a hockey game? You play hockey?" Never in her wildest fantasies (and there had been some pretty wild ones) had she even thought about the possibility that the most perfect man in the world could be so sexy and play hockey, too. Then again, hockey isn't a great turn-on, but it was slowly becoming one.  
  
"Have played for years. You game?"  
  
She smiles at the pun he seems not to have noticed and nods. "Yes. Let's do it."  
  
"Yeah?" He has a certain boyish aura today as he speaks, she notices.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
His grin becomes wider, if possible. "Okay. I'll pick you up from your apartment, six-ish."  
  
Was this guy CIA? Or did he just have ESP? Oh, yeah. She forgot that he knew where she lived ever since he dropped her off at three in the morning, granting her four and a half hours of beatiful dreams before waking for her first class of the day.  
  
"Sure," she manages, shunning the memories of the dreams.  
  
He steals one last kiss before turning and leaving, but neither notices that he leaves without a mocha. 


	8. Chapter 8

Five Dollar Mocha: 8  
She sits alone at the bottom of the bleachers; just three rows above her are the wives and children of the men playing. From there she watches Michael for almost twenty minutes, watches his sharp turns and effortless strides. He is in his element, and she can tell.  
  
A buzzer sounds signifying the end of the shortened second half; these are working men playing, they don't have enough time to play a full game. Women flock to the exits, leading their children to their fathers for a five-minute smile session before the men make their way to the locker rooms. Sydney follows, mildly amused by the bottleneck created by these families.  
  
A lone blonde comes up to her and speaks. "Makes you want to laugh doesn't it?"  
  
Sydney chuckles. "Yeah."  
  
"I'm Alice."  
  
"Sydney." They shake hands briefly. Their conversation continues as they make their way down the stairs.  
  
"Is it your first time?"  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"No blanket."  
  
Sydney suddenly realizes that she had indeed noticed blankets covering everyone else. "Always time to learn."  
  
"You're coming back?" She sounds shocked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We'll have to sit together next time, then."  
  
"Okay."  
  
They reach the bottom of the stairs and can hear the loud chattering already. Children commending their fathers, fathers laughing at their children's recount of the game. Sydney stands slightly off to the side; she can see Michael slapping the back of one of his teammates. He looks up and sees her, gives her a huge grin.  
  
"Sydney! You made it!"  
  
She walks up to him. "Of course I did. Grown men making fools of themselves on ice skates? No one wants to miss that!"  
  
He laughs and pulls off his mask. "Was I that bad?"  
  
"No, you were amazing. At least, I think so..."  
  
They both laugh. He grabs her hand with his glove-less right hand. "Hey, Brian, this is Sydney."  
  
Someone tall from Michael's team turns and smiles. "Sydney the magic coffee babe that we've all heard about for so long? I admit, it is nice to finally see you."  
  
Sydney shakes his hand and asks, "He talks about me that much?"  
  
"More," puts in another guy. "Jack," he adds, shaking her hand. "You planning on coming to another one of these?"  
  
"If Michael asks me to." She glances at him with a smile.  
  
"After what you said before, I highly doubt it." The group of them laugh.  
  
"A bunch of us are going to a bar and grill later," Brian says. "Care to join us?"  
  
"I'd love to. Can Michael come?" They laugh again.  
  
"Just wait for us in the lobby. You can follow me." He heads toward the locker room, and Sydney notices that she and Michael are the only people left near the rink.  
  
"Thanks for coming, Syd."  
  
"It was definitely my pleasure." She smiles and he kisses her. Several lifetimes later, he adds, "You riding with me?"  
  
"Yeah; still no car."  
  
"No need: you've got me."  
  
"Well, that's good." He kisses her one last time and leaves her alone next to the ice. She gazes at it for a few moments, then makes her way to the lobby to wait for Michael and his friends. 


	9. Chapter 9

Five Dollar Mocha: 9  
Sydney can hear their voices far before she can see them. The smile she can feel growing peaks as she sees Michael. His sparkling teeth flash from the flourescent lighting as he smiles back at her. She takes a step towards him and they meet, sharing a quick kiss. Michael's arm goes around her waist protectively as Brian starts telling the rest of the crowd their destination.  
  
"—and you guys know the drill. Now, Sydney here is a first-timer, and I know that Mike doesn't want us embarassing him, so feel free to act as stupid as you usually do."  
  
"Not including yourself there, Brian?" Jack shouts over gales of laughter. Sydney notices a pretty blonde next to him and they smile at one another.  
  
"This is Brian we're talking about, Jack," Michael says as the group begins its way towards the parking lot. His hand slips off Sydney's waist and he threads his fingers through hers. "But before Sarah, he was a nobody like the rest of us."  
  
"Just like you before Sydney?" Brian asks, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"Mike's still a nobody," another man says, "that government job of his must hide him pretty well."  
  
Michael laughs along with everyone else and says to Sydney, "Seth, and that's his wife Amy." She reaches up to peck him on the cheek. "What was that for?"  
  
"You can be my nobody all you want."  
  
"I feel privileged." He pushes the glass door open and California sunshine drowns them both. Most of the rest of the team has already dispersed to their separate cars, but Jack and the woman with him walk up to Sydney's side.  
  
"Hi Sydney, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Caitlin, Jack's girlfriend."  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Caitlin."  
  
"Going out after a game is the usual for the team, whether they win or lose."  
  
"And we usually win," Jack puts in. He stops suddenly, and Sydney looks back only to realize that they had reached Jack's car. She and Michael stop in front of a Vespa.  
  
"Oh my god," she laughs, "you have got to be kidding me."  
  
"What, you think I can't ride a Vespa?"  
  
"No, I think a government employee can't own a Vespa. What happened to the Volvo?"  
  
"It's right here." He opens the passenger door of the silver midsize sedan and Sydney sits down inside. She waits for him to seat himself before speaking.  
  
"You know, when I met you I did not have you down as a Volvo man."  
  
He backs out of the space. "When you met me I wanted a coffee."  
  
"I know."  
  
He glances at her as he exits the parking lot. "You imagined what kind of car I drove the first time you saw me? What makes me think that wasn't all you imagined..." She slaps his arm playfully and replies, leaning towards him.  
  
"I imagined you without a shirt shortly after, but I've yet to see if I'm right about that."  
  
They stop at a red light. He looks at her, and his green eyes shimmer as he speaks. "We'll have to do something about that, won't we?"  
  
Unsure at what exactly he is going for, she smiles and kisses him. "I guess we will."  
  
The rest of the ride is spent speaking of Michael's hockey-playing history. A large building appears before them too quickly. They step out of the car; Sydney takes his hand as they head towards the eatery. Michael holds the large door open for her, and as she walks through he says, "Welcome to Nardi's. Trust me, you will never forget it." 


	10. Chapter 10

Five Dollar Mocha: 10  
  
"So, how old are you, Sydney?" Jack asks before shoving chilli cheese fries into his mouth.  
  
"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one in a month."  
  
"Ooh, we've got an illegal in here!" Amy exclaims in a suspenseful whisper. "I feel like I'm hiding something from the government; Mike, don't tell!" They all laugh, Sydney included.  
  
"Well, you picked the perfect legal guy to go out with," Brian says. "Mike doesn't drink."  
  
"Oh." She looks to Michael, surprised. He replies sheepishly.  
  
"I drink, just not as much as the rest of you. I have to stay sober for my job."  
  
"Which," interrupts Seth, "no one knows about."  
  
"What do you do anyway, Michael?" Sydney asks, turning to him once more.  
  
"I see that you know as much as we do," Seth laughs. "And we've known him longer."  
  
Michael smiles and leans back, putting his arm around Sydney. "I let them believe that I'm a secret agent working for the CIA," he tells her. "It keeps them happy." Several types of appetizers hit him from all directions. "Hey!"  
  
Their waitress appears once more. "What'll it be, boys? Feel like Sam Adams tonight?" She glances around at them with a large grin, but she stops when she sees Sydney. Her voice sounds a little different as she speaks, her eyes flickering across Michael's arm. "I never noticed you! New here?"  
  
"Yes. I'm Sydney."  
  
"Well, first beer's on the house."  
  
"Thanks, Jess," Michael says. "I think the two of us will have Michelob Light, everyone else will have Sam."  
  
"Except me," Jack adds, "only imported in my beer belly!" Caitlin punches his shoulder and says, "Then don't expect to see me any longer."  
  
"Green bottle for you, then," the waitress, Jess, states. She walks away.  
  
"I see you guys are regulars here," Sydney says to Michael as conversations restart around them.  
  
"You could say that," he laughs. "You don't have to drink the beer if you don't want to."  
  
"So you think I haven't been to any Frat parties?"  
  
"I didn't say that. But keg beer is... well, you get drunk in about thirty seconds."  
  
"I have a friend who can make it in less."  
  
Before they can laugh, their ears suddenly become filled with a repetetive beeping. Michael looks down and touches his waist, taking off his beeper. He frowns, and looks at Sydney before turning to his friends.  
  
"Who was it?" Amy asks.  
  
"Work. I'm needed."  
  
"It's final," Brian says, "Mike is a secret agent for the FBI."  
  
Michael chuckles. "I guess Sydney and I will be leaving."  
  
"You will?" Amy raises one eyebrow. "Didn't hear you asking her."  
  
He turns to Sydney, flustered and cheeks about to tinge. She smiles and replies. "It's fine. I'm just sorry I couldn't spend more time with you guys."  
  
Caitlin returns the smile as Sydney and Michael stand up. "We'll have to get together sometime."  
  
Sydney's smile falters a bit. "Work and school take up a lot of my time."  
  
"We can still do it." She grabs a pen from Jack's pocket and holds it above a napkin. "What's your phone number?" Sydney tells her.  
  
Michael puts his hand on her back to guide her out, and she quickly adds, "I hope I'll see all of you again soon."  
  
"You will," several voices chorus as they leave.  
  
After they sit in the Volvo, Sydney turns to Michael and says, "I like your friends."  
  
"I do, too, except for the constant drinking and making fun of my job."  
  
"I like the laughing."  
  
"That's part of the reason I still hang out with them. They're a pretty happy-go-lucky group, at least around me." He turns on the radio and they sit listening until Sydney's apartment appears in the front windshield.  
  
"Thank you, and I will most definitely come to the next game."  
  
"I kind of hoped you would."  
  
Sydney touches his cheek with her right hand and leans in to kiss him. The kiss quickly deepens but she pulls away and says, "You have to go."  
  
"I know."  
  
She kisses him again but stops it too quickly. "You really have to go." She opens the car door and gets out. "Call me, okay?"  
  
"As soon as I get there."  
  
She laughs. "You know what I mean." She pushes the door shut and watches him drive away before entering her apartment. 


	11. Chapter 11

Five Dollar Mocha: 11  
  
Sydney finds herself thinking of Michael at the most random times. Of course, what's not to think of? His gorgeous eyes or amazing smile or the amazing body that she's only imagined.  
  
She wants that to change tonight. She and Michael have been dating for almost two months but have yet to spend the night together.  
  
Tonight, he has invited her to his apartment for dinner (Italian) and possibly a movie (some chick flick he'll let her choose but they'll probably ignore). All day she has been trying to think of the perfect outfit. Aside from her obvious awkwardness with Michael, Francie has become a very close friend of Sydney's. In the two classes they have together, they passed notes and debated the style Sydney was to go for tonight. Casual had been ruled out almost immediately, and by the end of class Sydney is left to choose between ultra-sexy and ultra-conservative. (Even she is confused by where these choices appeared from.)  
  
On the one hand, dressing ultra-sexy almost guarantees missing the dinner and the movie. But ultra-conservative either turns him on or turns him off. It all depends on him.  
  
She sits on the edge of her bed, staring into her closet. Her eyes have traveled over the revealing little-black-dress hanging in the corner numerous times, but they also slide to boot-cut-jeans-and-tight-long-sleeved-shirt in the other side of the closet. Finally, she comes to a conclusion. She slips the dress over the jeans, smoothing it over the lines of the pants.  
  
Ugly as it seemed when she first thought of it, Sydney is amazed by how great the outfit looks. Coupled with black boots, she almost congratulates herself out loud.  
  
Just as she starts to gather her hair into a messy half-ponytail, the doorbell rings. She smiles; she's expecting Francie. She opens the door and begins the hairstyle again.  
  
"Hi."  
  
She freezes, hands still in her hair. "Michael!"  
  
"Sorry I'm early. You—" He pauses and draws his eyes from her head to the floor, taking her in completely. "You look amazing. And I'm not just saying that."  
  
She blushes, hairs pricking at his words, as she shuts the door behind him. "Thank you. But I still have to put my hair up." He catches her wrist as she pulls her fingers through her hair.  
  
"Don't." Her wrist is still in his hand. She glances at it and returns her gaze to his eyes. God they're so green and hazel and— "I love it either way."  
  
She lunges at him with her lips and her hands. Why did she wear the dress over the pants? It's just more to take off! He kisses her back just as passionately as she him, but after a few seconds he pulls away. She looks up at him, hands on his chest, and his words are throaty.  
  
"I thought we were going to my place." She closes her eyes and nuzzles him before softly kissing him again. "If this is the punishment for staying here, I've got no problem with it." She smiles up at him, words escaping from where lust lies now. He opens the door and she threads her fingers through his as he leads her to his car. 


	12. Chapter 12

Five Dollar Mocha: 12  
  
Sydney wakes up sweating, gasping, bedsheets bunched around her. She sits up and looks to her left at Michael's absence. It's not as if not having him beside her gives her nightmares. This is the third time this week she's woken this way.  
  
This is the third time this week he's stood her up.  
  
And she has brushed it away, blaming it on that secret government job he holds. He left her a message the first time, spouting a quick "sorry I couldn't make it but I'll call you later" two hours after their agreed upon meeting time. The third time, she didn't even expect him to show up. She'd invited him to her house for dinner. She didn't even change from the tight tank and shorts she had worn to run through the park.  
  
The possibility of an affair runs through her head yet again. She had first thought of it the third night he stood her up as she peeled off her clothing to take a shower. She had tossed her clothes onto the floor of her bathroom and stepped into the tub, disbelieving. It was—it is impossible. Even now, as she straightens her sheets and attempts to go back to sleep, she refuses to believe that Michael does not feel for her the way she feels for him.  
  
-  
  
She lies on her side beside him, watching his chest move up and down as he breathes softly and evenly. He had apologized, profusely, mumbling something about work and important deadlines. Sydney had accepted immediately, lost in those amazing green eyes.  
  
She is too in love with him.  
  
She hasn't said anything yet, but even though this is only the second time he has stayed overnight at her house, they have spent so much more time getting to know one another. She runs her hand across his bare chest and he stirs, his hand coming up to meet hers.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
She laughs, clearly and perfectly, tossing her head back ever so slightly. She snuggles closer to him. "It's only three."  
  
"It doesn't matter." She looks at him strangely, and he continues. "Any time I wake up next to you is a good morning."  
  
She leans down and kisses him, murmuring that he is so amazingly sweet and kissing him again. She's tired and sore, but a newfound energy is pulsing through her. He rolls over her, and she opens her eyes and looks up at him as he ends the kiss.  
  
"I love you."  
  
If he's caught by surprise, he doesn't show it. "I love you, too." 


	13. Chapter 13

Five Dollar Mocha: 13  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
She looks up from the register, pastes a slight smile over her shocked reaction. "Right now, or...?"  
  
"When you can." He looks to his right for a moment then focuses once more on Sydney.  
  
"I can take a break right now." She starts moving towards the door to the manager's office.  
  
"No!" She stops, turns and faces him. He continues. "I mean, don't change your schedule just for me."  
  
She relaxes and smiles at him. "Michael, don't worry about it. I just need a second to get someone to cover for me." He waits at the counter as she disappears through the door and reappears without her apron.  
  
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she asks, trying not to show her concern. It's in vain, though, because he catches on immediately.  
  
"Sure. Uh, we can go to my car." He opens the door for her, and she looks at him, wondering what exactly is going on here. The reach the Volvo and sit inside it. He turns on the stereo, to classical but it still jars her. Sydney waits, unsure if she should act first or if he will. She turns towards him and sits with one leg tucked under her.  
  
He keeps his hands on his lap, looking straight ahead as he begins. "Sydney, I need to tell you something. I should have told you this before, like when we first started dating."  
  
"Michael, what's wrong?" She reaches out and takes one of his hands in hers. He finally makes eye contact with her, and she can see the worry plainly.  
  
"Sydney, this is going to take you by surprise. I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but it has to be done." He takes a deep breath. "I'm a CIA agent."  
  
She stares at him. "Yeah, right. Okay, so tell me what you really do." When he doesn't say anything, Sydney inquires, "Your friends know?"  
  
He shakes his head and smiles, a half chuckle even slips out. "No, but once when I was drunk I told them. They thought I was joking. It's why I don't drink as much as I used to."  
  
"Really? Because I thought it was just to pick up underage girls like me." She returns the smile.  
  
"No, I actually haven't had a girlfriend in a while. I guess it just was the right time when I met you; my life was finally starting to settle, and my missions are overnighters, weekends at the most."  
  
"Missions?"  
  
"Yeah, I was serious about that secret agent stuff."  
  
Sydney sits properly, looking out the front windshield. "Wild. I get why you didn't tell me, but why are you telling me now?"  
  
"There's been an information leak. Some shadowy agencies have somehow gotten a list of certain agents of several government agencies."  
  
"What, like the FBI and CIA?"  
  
"Not to mention MI6 and others."  
  
She looks at him curiously. "Are you on that list?"  
  
"Yeah." He tightens his grip on her hand. "I'm going to leave LA for a while, Sydney. It's a matter of life and death."  
  
"Michael, you have to go! God, I don't want you to die—" She can't believe it, but tears are in her eyes.  
  
"I want you to come with me, Sydney."  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I want you to come with me. I mean, let's face it. I'm going to be on some distant island all by myself with no one but security guards that I'll probably never see. It'd be fun to have you with me."  
  
"You want me to go to an island paradise with you?"  
  
"Yeah. Don't pack much."  
  
She laughs. "That leaves little for me to wonder what activities you have planned for us."  
  
"So you'll come."  
  
She leans over and kisses his cheek. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 


End file.
